


speechless, over the edge (i'm just breathless)

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, i blame gq, they're absurd this is absurd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16125734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: Being in love is a little more like being possessed by some weird reckless chaos demon than Mitch would’ve anticipated.





	speechless, over the edge (i'm just breathless)

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%. Please keep this work confined to fan spaces and away from the eyes of the people mentioned herein!
> 
> title from "lovebug" by the jonas brothers. this happened because auston did a [gq photoshoot](https://www.gq.com/story/auston-matthews-tunnel-style) and mitch had a [really cute reaction](https://twitter.com/markhmasters/status/1045395678447489024)
> 
> thank you christa, ali, ciara, and rachel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3

 

 

Because nothing in Mitch’s life can ever happen in a straightforward and convenient way, he realizes he’s in love with Auston because of what might be the worst and most hilarious photoshoot he’s ever seen in his life. 

It’s not even fair, because he’s not even done publicly roasting Auston before his stupid mushy feelings set in. Like, he doesn’t even have the chance to go full-out giving him crap, because while he’s looking at his best friend with his huge forehead and stupid fucking turtleneck, he actually realizes that he’s legitimately head-over-heels for the guy. 

Which is just fucked up. Mitch should at least get the chance for some no-holds-barred mockery before he has to deal with a love realization.

His first reaction is  _ fucking damnit,  _ because it really is inconvenient, and his second reaction is just  _ fuck,  _ because, like—  

_ Fuck. _

It’s… less than ideal, being in love with your best friend. 

Like, it’s— 

This is—  

Huh. 

Mitch might need some time to adjust to this. 

…… 

The worst part of it is that Auston is acting fucking weird, and it takes Mitch a second to even notice, because Mitch is feeling weird. Like, in-love-weird—a recognizable weird—but weird nonetheless. 

It’s like— he’s human, alright? He wants to know if Auston could maybe be interested in letting Mitch do something about the whole being-in-love-with-him thing, which seems like a pretty reasonable thing to think about when you’re in love with someone. It’s making everything Auston does feel different, because Mitch is processing differently— looking for hints, cues, clues, scraps of anything that might look like romance, even if he has to squint and turn his head sideways. 

But he doesn’t find any, and it takes him a hot minute to realize it’s because Auston’s acting different than usual. 

Mitch has been in love for maybe an hour, and it’s already making his life all confusing and shit. He really wishes that this whole  _ fuckshitfuck what do I do  _ phase of feelings would just end already. 

Auston being weird is a friend-problem, though, so Mitch figures he can tell his stomach butterflies to shut the fuck up. It’s not like getting butterflies from looking at Auston is a new thing, anyway— Auston’s got a nice smile, and nice legs, and is generally just a nice presence in Mitch’s life. Mitch can ignore the butterflies if it means he gets to look at Auston longer, spend more time with him, appreciate the fact that they’re best friends and it’s super awesome. Stomach-butterflies really don’t deserve the hate they get, in Mitch’s opinion, because they’re not actually that bad. Actually, they’re pretty nice, once you get used to them. 

Mitch is well aware that the fact that he’s been getting butterflies forever is probably a sign that he’s been in love with Auston for just as long, but, like, duh. You don’t just fall in love with your best friend out of nowhere. It’s the  _ knowing _ he’s in love that’s throwing him off right now.

“Yo,” Mitch says, when Auston’s getting back into his street clothes. “Wanna do something later?” 

Auston shrugs. “Whatever.” 

It would be an exceptionally unhelpful answer, if Mitch and Auston weren’t best friends, but Mitch is fluent in Auston’s moods.  _ Whatever,  _ roughly translated, means  _ I can’t say yes because I’m mad at you, and now I’m annoyed that you didn’t notice, so I’m gonna be dismissive and passive-aggressive because I’m sulking but hate talking about my feelings.  _

Auston having the emotional capacity of a particularly bratty pre-teen isn’t exactly new, but now Mitch is all in love with him and stuff, so being  _ Whatever _ ’d is, like, actually breaking his heart. He’s probably got a face like someone kicked a puppy, or like he’s a puppy that just got kicked, and he considers leaving it that way for maximum emotional manipulation, but that’s not how he likes to roll. He’s gonna be proactive and productive, thank you very much, and eventually, Auston will go with it.  

“Alright,” Mitch says, carefully schooling his expression into bright, cheerful, understanding. “I’ll text you, we can catch a movie or something.” 

Auston doesn’t even dignify it with a response, just shrugs again, and Mitch feels a little bit like he’s being stabbed, but he just gives Auston a wave that’s polite and awkward in equal measure before he heads out.  

…… 

Mitch resolves to not text Auston right away, because Auston clearly needs some time to cool off, and Mitch can’t really cope with passive-aggressiveness right now. He even forms a plan, thinks that he might even wait until after dinner to text him, so he can make sure Auston’s well-rested and well-fed and relaxed and just generally in a good mood. It’s the best choice, probably, because usually, Auston’s a pretty big fan of forgiving and forgetting. Maybe whatever had him so pissed at Mitch earlier will be in the past, if Mitch waits long enough. 

He lasts about an hour before worry gets the better of him and he gives up on making good decisions. 

He doesn’t even bother texting, even, just hops right in his car and goes over to Auston’s place. They’ve never, ever done something like this before; he’s pretty sure showing up unannounced isn’t a thing people  _ do.  _ It’s 2018, and they’re kind of famous, and it’s just, like, fucking weird and dramatic, but apparently, being in love makes you do weird and dramatic things. Mitch probably should’ve expected this, from movies and TV and stuff, but he’d always kind of assumed those things were exaggerated. 

As it turns out, they are not. Maybe the government should issue an official warning about losing all capacity for rational thought when love takes over, because Mitch really would’ve appreciated a heads up. 

So he ends up outside Auston’s door, and then he rings the doorbell, and Auston answers after the longest minute of Mitch’s life. 

For a second, he looks sleepy and confused—which means Mitch probably woke him up from a nap, so, cool, off to a great start—and then he just mostly looks irritated. 

“Thought you were going to text,” Auston snaps, and Mitch is really regretting… pretty much everything, right now. 

“Sorry,” Mitch says. “You just— you seemed mad at me?” 

“So you showed up at my house?” Auston says, glare not letting up. 

Mitch just shrugs helplessly, because he can’t exactly say,  _ I’m in love with you, and it’s making me do weird things.  _ Being in love is a little more like being possessed by some weird reckless chaos demon than Mitch would’ve anticipated. He wonders if there’s something like— maybe an exorcism? Except instead of ridding your soul of evil spirits or whatever, it just makes you less in love. 

“Can I come in?” he asks.

For his efforts, all Mitch gets is a long, unimpressed stare, and a huffed-out “Fine, whatever,” before Auston turns on his heels and walks into his living room, Mitch trailing after. 

He makes himself at home on Auston’s couch, feeling vaguely guilty at the sight of the tossed-off blanket and throw pillows stacked at one end. He’s curled up at the end where he assumes Auston’s feet had been, but it’s still all warm and napped-in, and it gets Mitch thinking about how cute Auston looks when he sleeps. Even though he kind of snores, and his mouth is usually a little open, and his face gets pressed into the pillows so that his cheeks are all funny-looking and smushed— 

On second thought, Auston doesn’t actually look that cute when he sleeps. 

But he does look calm and peaceful, and make cute sounds sometimes, and his hair will occasionally flop on his forehead and Mitch will spend ten minutes debating whether to be an asshole and blow on it so he can watch it flop again.

Being in love is really fucking weird. 

“I never said I was mad at you,” Auston says, which is a pretty weak argument, considering he is: (1) at the other end of the couch, like, pressed up against the arm, (2) crossing his arms, (3) turned as far away from Mitch as a person can be without actually having their back to someone, (4) grumbling, and (5) glaring daggers at Mitch and his own feet in turn. 

“Um.” 

“I mean,” Auston says. “I could just be in a bad mood. It’s not always about you, you know.” 

Mitch hates that low blows keep landing, he hates the fact that they’re fighting, and he truly, honestly, absolutely  _ hates  _ being in love. 

“Okay, then,” Mitch says, and usually he’d act cheerful, but— he’s going through something, alright? He’s allowed to be hurt, when Auston’s being hurtful. Two can play the pouting game, especially when it’s not a game, and is just, like, how he’s feeling. 

After a beat, Auston does this weird, resigned sort of grunt. “It’s nothing.” 

“Don’t be a dick,” Mitch says. 

“But it’s— whatever. It’s stupid.” 

“You’re already being stupid,” Mitch says. “It’s annoying. Just tell me what I did wrong, we can move on with our lives.” 

“It’s really not a big deal,” Auston says, his eyes now firmly fixed on the floor. He still looks angry, but now it’s at least partly at himself, almost like he’s embarrassed. “If you don’t— I’m just overreacting, it’s really— it doesn’t matter. Whatever.”

“Jesus christ, Matts,” Mitch says, because he doesn’t have the energy for the whole  _ it’s not overreacting if it’s bothering you  _ dialogue, and anyway, they’ve had it enough times to both know it by heart

Auston waits one beat, and then another, and then: “Did you really have to laugh at me in front of all those reporters?”

Mitch blinks. “What?” 

“This morning,” Auston says. “About the GQ thing. Like, I dunno, it was— it’s whatever. I’m being stupid.” 

“Oh,” Mitch says, sitting up a bit. This is, like, a playground-level dispute. Auston’s feelings are hurt because of something Mitch said, and Mitch should apologize for taking a joke at Auston’s expense too far. He’s read picture books with more complex moral messages than that; he can totally handle this situation. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you. The pictures were just, like, funny.” 

Auston doesn’t look like he feels any better. 

“I mean, the clothes, and the poses and stuff— they had personality, you know? They were very you.” 

“So you were laughing at my personality,” Auston says flatly. 

This really isn’t how Mitch thought this would go. “Like, they were fun. They weren’t just boring hockey player pictures, they were all—” Mitch has to actively stop himself from saying  _ cute. _ “—dorky, and stuff.” 

“Are you calling me a dork?” Auston says, incredulous and hurt and clearly hating every second of this conversation just as much as Mitch is. Mitch can’t even be mad that he’s going all worst-case-scenario right now, because it’s so obvious that he doesn’t want to be, that Auston’s brain is just being dramatic and twisting Mitch’s words entirely without Auston’s permission. 

Also, Mitch is still in love with him, and this whole thing just fucking sucks. 

“No— I mean, yes? Ish? But not like, ‘give me your lunch money, dork,’ just— you’re a human person, who likes jokes and stuff, and it was nice that you weren’t trying to not be you, because— like, I’m a dork too. I  _ like  _ dorks. Or not dorks in general, just— I liked seeing that part of you in a fashion magazine, and it was like… surprising, but awesome? Because I really like you, and I like it when you’re funny, and just— I should stop talking.” 

There’s about a 50% chance that Mitch is going to actually combust from confusion and embarrassment of his own making. Seriously. He might  _ literally die _ due to complications associated with being in love, and if he doesn’t, he’s going to quit hockey and embark on a political career so he can make romantic feelings illegal once and for all. 

“Probably,” Auston says, and he only sounds mildly hurt. Mitch thinks he can detect tentative amusement there, too, so at least that’s kind of promising. 

“I didn’t mean to laugh at you,” Mitch says. “I’m sorry, okay?” 

“Okay,” Auston says, his voice flat, but steady. 

“I just really liked— them,” Mitch says, because his mouth has apparently stopped consulting him before it just says things. “And, like, I really like you.”

“It’s okay, seriously,” Auston says, and this time it’s a little more genuine. Maybe he can tell that Mitch is having some kind of emotional breakdown, and has generously decided not to take him too seriously. 

“I really am gonna stop talking,” Mitch says. “Like, really, I will, someday.”  

“Whatever you’ve gotta do.”

There’s a stretch of silence where Mitch processes the whole day, tries to think about what this whole thing must look like from Auston’s point of view, and as expected, it just— he knows he’s acting strange, and that none of what he’s doing could possibly make any sense, but he feels sort of powerless to stop it, like his feelings have been unleashed from his own personal Pandora’s box, but instead of randomly running amok, they banded together to hijack Mitch’s entire life. 

“You wanna kiss me to shut me up?” is the phrase that ends up falling out of Mitch’s mouth after neither of them has spoken for a solid twenty seconds, because apparently Hollywood made a sequel to  _ Inside Out  _ with Mitch as the main character, and his normal, rational feelings are currently in an epic pirate battle with the love-induced feelings.  

Auston pretty much jumps off the couch, which is good, because Mitch is kind of hoping it swallows him whole, and he wouldn’t want Auston to get caught up in that. “What? Why would you say that?” 

“I don’t know,” Mitch says, squeezing his eyes shut. “I mean, I do know, but I didn’t mean to—” 

“Is this a prank?” Auston demands. 

“Wh— no, it’s not— I’m sorry,” Mitch says, climbing off the couch. “I’m just gonna—” He cuts himself off, because he’s not sure what he’s going to do. Leave, or request a trade, or possibly change his name and assume a quiet life as a fisherman who’s never played hockey in his life, as far as anyone knows. Really, it’s anyone’s guess.

“Why are you acting so weird, then?” Auston says, and he sounds kind of helpless. “I don’t—” 

“I told you, I… y’know.” Mitch sighs, then hides his face in his hands. “I just— I really like you.” 

“You— what?” 

“Those pictures, they were just— great. They were fucking great, and I was looking at them, and I just— I loved them, just, like— I liked them so  _ much. _ And then I couldn’t stop smiling like a fucking idiot, and that’s why it looked like I was laughing at you, I guess.” 

“Because you—” Auston swallows. “You— like, when you say you liked them,” he says, “what do you— what?” 

“I… don’t think I understand the question.” Mitch’s brain is about 70% white noise right now, but he’s still pretty sure that objectively made absolutely no sense. 

“You… like,” Auston says. 

“I like,” Mitch confirms. 

“And when you say like, you mean, like— like?” 

“I mean— what?” 

“You know,” Auston says. “Like, when you asked me to— to shut you up.” Mitch’s cheeks get even hotter as Auston blushes even deeper at that, neither of which should be possible. “You— like, you said you really— like?” 

“I— words,” Mitch says. Apparently, love makes language lose all meaning. 

“Yeah,” Auston agrees. “I’m gonna stop with them.” 

“Same here,” Mitch says, doing this weird, jerky nod, and—  

And that  _ would _ be the end of that, if they weren’t standing face-to-face in Auston’s living room in mutually agreed-upon silence, but, like, they are, so it’s really about as awkward as any situation could possibly be. 

Mitch isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to do in this situation, except before he can figure it out, Auston’s walking towards him, saying “Okay, this is just—” 

And he doesn’t finish that sentence, because— 

His mouth— it’s on Mitch’s, and then his lips are soft, and then Mitch is leaning into him, because that’s what you do when you’re kissing someone, and they’re kissing, so— 

Auston’s tongue is in Mitch’s mouth, and Mitch’s hands are tangled in Auston’s hair, and Auston’s fingers are gripping at Mitch’s hips, and Mitch— 

Mitch is in love with Auston. 

It takes a second, but eventually his brain starts to piece together the last few minutes of his life into some kind of order. It’s like a fireworks show in his head, bright and beautiful realizations sounding loud in the air, and Auston’s warm, and he’s close, and somehow, it all fits together really well. 

“What was that for?” Mitch says, barely even pulling away. 

“To shut you up,” Auston says easily. 

“Smart thinking,” Mitch says. “Considering I’m still talking, you should probably—”

Auston doesn’t tell him to shut up, just leans in to kiss him again, and Mitch can feel him laugh a little against his mouth, and Mitch can’t help but smile at the feeling.

And— okay, there are maybe worse things than being in love with your best friend, because right now, Mitch can’t really imagine anything better.

**Author's Note:**

> songs i recommend to go with this story:  
> -lovebug by the jonas brothers (obviously)  
> -see you again by miley cyrus  
> -believe by cher  
> -juliet by lmnt  
> -the "whoa oh ohhh oh"s from the beginning of the big time rush theme
> 
> i'm lottswrites on tumblr!


End file.
